


Shifter

by byronsar



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dark Magic, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Draco Malfoy/OC - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Gryffindor, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Little to no knowledge of medical terminology, M/M, Mystery, Original Characters - Freeform, Secrets, Slow Build, Slytherin, Slytherin Main Character, Suspense, and teen love? idk, ayo we got Draco Malfoy up in here, idk how long this will take, poor Draco Malfoy, redeemable draco malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-05-31 09:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byronsar/pseuds/byronsar
Summary: A girl with a sickness, a boy with a disease. There can only be one cure.Nancy Walsh is starting her sixth year at Hogwarts. While her relations with her Mother begin to dim, her relations with her best friend Augustine McCarthy begin to flourish, as well as some new, perhaps dangerous feelings for a certain quiet boy.Nancy is also a Shifter, a person who can change their appearance whenever and wherever they choose. It comes in handy while she is on the run; on the run from a dark secret that has begun to resurface following You-Know-Who's return. The secret of Nancy's Dad's disappearance holds a series of deeper, darker mysteries, but Nancy must also begin to deal with the repercussions of her own secret, as well as how it has begun to make her sick, and how this sickness has begun to give rise to an entirely new understanding of who she really is.





	1. The Fight

5:00  
I didn't know why I was up so early. I had slept peacefully, unlike many other nights, and the sun had yet to break the horizon. It was five in the morning, a few hours before I was supposed to be up to catch the train, but my mind was racing.

My body, however, resisted movement for a few moments. I stretched, my fingertips grazing my headboard before I sat up, yawning loudly. I swung my legs off the side of the bed, the bruise on my left hip protesting for a moment, and stood, making my way to my en suite bathroom.

5:10  
Sometime during the night, I had given myself another bright purple bruise, this time on my collar bone. It clashed with my pale skin and stood out more than it probably would on a normal person's body.

Simple fix. My eyes roll back into my head. I let my mind turn off. My breathing slowed. To anyone who walked in, I was a corpse.

I blinked. My skin tone was how I'd normally wear it to cover up blemishes; a light olive with copper tones. It wasn't too dark that I looked Hispanic or Italian, but it gave me somewhat of a sun-kissed glow. My hair was a hot auburn with layers of blonde floating along the surface. It wasn't what I usually wear, but I was feeling adventurous, so why not?

I had slept in my outfit for the day, which also happened to have been the same outfit I wore out yesterday, and I was surprised to find that this tactic had not led to any major wrinkles. I was looking somewhat presentable, for once. There were three months between the end of school and the start of it, so I had had no obvious need to look nice if I never left my room. My social life wasn't one for the books either; in fact, an author probably wouldn't cite it in the index. I had a total of two friends, and only one would say the same about me.

5:30  
My mother wasn't up yet, but Ralph sure was. The pygmy owl only slept when I slept apparently, which is odd considering he's nocturnal. He was caged in our spare bedroom down the hall, away from both my mother's room and mine to optimize the quiet. Currently, however, he was making enough noise to wake up half the neighborhood.

"Quit bashing your head in Ralph, blimey." I scolded, snatching the dark fleece from overtop his cage.The bird squawked at me, light from the room blinding him for just a moment before attempting to peck his way through the cage door, which worked somewhat since he was so small.

"I'd hate to see you get a bruise on that beautiful beak of yours" He only pecked harder, the crisp tune of the metallic bars echoing throughout the dismal room. I sighed; might as well keep him busy- he was going to be caged up for half a day anyway.

I undid the clasp, albeit through numerous pecks, and opened the door. Ralph was startled for a moment that he had managed to free himself so early in the morning, but quickly regained his composure and flew onto my shoulder, pecking my ear in delight.

"Oi! Don't you have something over there you can destroy that won't harm my hearing?" I motioned to what I fittingly had deemed 'Ralph's Corner', complete with half-eaten barbies, several chunks of missing wall, and a collection of pristine stuffed rats. Somehow he finds the rats soothing rather than provoking and cherishes them like a collection of cloudy diamonds.

He took the bait, flew over, and preceded to tear off Babysitter Barbie's head.

7:00  
My mother was up now. Maybe I shouldn't have let Ralph out so early.

8:30  
My Mom and I had left a few minutes early, and by a few minutes, I mean at least half an hour early. Ralph's usual car ride squawking was inhibited by a large, black sheet my mother had torn from a spare bed and tied around the bars of his cage. My trunk had been shoved haphazardly into the space directly next to the owl's cage, so much so that I was worried what would happen to him if we were to take too sharp of a turn.

My Mother had not spoken a word since we had left the house. Her pointed face, nearly as pale as mine tended to be, stared straight ahead, her dark eyes only leaving the road to check her mirrors every so often. I could tell she was refraining from checking her left mirror in an attempt to avoid making eye contact with me.

We tended to do this often, my Mom and I. The day I'd leave for school, she would find some reason to start a fight with me, and while it was awful to be a part of while it was happening, it sure did make leaving a whole lot easier. Today, it was about Ralph being out of his cage too early in the morning and making a ruckus, to which my mother threatened to throw him out for the wolves to feed on. Last year, it was about the way I dressed, being that it should be for "a simple train ride, not a slut show". The year before that, well, let's just say she brought up my father too many times to count.

My headache from the day before had come back. Pro tip: don't yell before 9, it may give you an aneurysm. The bruise on my hip was throbbing, but I had packed a bag of ice to sooth it during the drive. It wouldn't last the entire car ride, but at least the seats on the train were mildly comfortable.

I had a funk about using magic to sooth my injuries. When I was seven, I was diagnosed with Hemophilia (by someone who was not a wizard doctor, mind you), which seemed to be a result of my ability to shift. Only my good friend Augustine, my Mom, and Madame Pomfrey knew about it, and the only reason Madame Pomfrey found out was because she had attempted to soothe a quidditch injury with magic. Healing spells are meant to work on normal bodies; they're supposed to heal a cut by closing the skin, heal a bruise by closing the vessel, and any kid with Hemophilia would be fine doing it to themselves. But I learned the hard way that magically healed injuries are slightly weaker than normally healed injuries that form stronger than they were before. Shifting while having a weak vessel could open it up all over again, then I wouldn't know until it was too late.

10:20  
My Mother decided to say goodbye to me from the car today. 

10:45  
There was a stark difference between the muggles and the wizards, but not one you'd think. The wizards, of course, looked either suspicious or walked with an air of dignity, but so did the muggles. Each one attempted to seem more important than his peer or keep his motives under the radar. The wizards and the muggles blended in.

Except for one detail. The muggles noticed nothing and the wizards noticed everything. The muggles let each have their own: wearing a hat from decades ago; so be it. Pet toucans perched on a trolley; why not? Wearing a cape; it's a statement. The wizards, however, seemed to be focused on doing everything to ensure their cover isn't blown: No Ravenclaw tie today, it'd catch an eye. Carry your frog in your pocket, no one would look there. Make eye contact, you won't look suspicious. In all honesty, the wizards looked more like muggles than the muggles did.

I had been people watching on the bench outside Platform 8 for around twenty minutes before he arrived, dressed in bright colors as always. His pale skin enunciated the silver scar down the side of his neck (the result of a quidditch accident fifth year), as well as his bright, turquoise eyes and head of shaggy, blond hair. He didn't notice me at first, as my hair was a few shades darker than he probably remembered it. What caught his attention were my eyes, which haven't changed in over a decade.

"Nancy!" Augustine exclaimed, rushing me like an American football player. His family, whom he had been holding a conversation with moments before, looked startled as Gus tackled my fragile, barely 100-pound body.

"Gus! I've missed you so much!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. I'd known Gus since the fourth year, the year I moved to England. He was the first acquaintance I'd ever had since I lived in Ireland.

"Let me get a good look at you, Nance." He pushed away from my embrace and set his hands on my shoulders giving me a once over. "Ooh, I like the hair; feisty but still looks natural. Eyes are beautiful as always, silver really goes with any skin tone, and-" Gus paused, eyes trailing over what I thought was my invisible bruised neckline.

"It's nothing, Augustine. I just slept funny again." I said with my voice lowered, my hand unconsciously scratching at my hip.

Gus bit his lip for a moment, holding eye contact until he seemed to get the answer he was looking for, before wrapping his arm around my shoulder and breaking into a wide grin. "Well this train isn't gonna board itself, is it?"


	2. Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder

From the moment I was born, I knew I was going to be a Slytherin.

It wasn't something in my character that gave it away; I had always been an onlooker, a people watcher. In my childhood, it was rare for me to get involved in another's predicaments or even put myself in a position where I was liable to be drug into one.

It was my parents that instead began to force this path onto me. For years, any mention of schooling would embark my father on a thousand-hour lecture on the exceptionality of the Slytherin house and its subjects. He was descended from a line of Slytherins, dating all the way back to the early 1000s, and he made it his mission to never let me forget that, as well as making sure that I knew what would happen if I was not to be in Slytherin. As if I was able to choose my house with free will.

My Mother was also a Slytherin, however, it was not too long ago that she had told me she was, in fact, the first generation Slytherin in a line of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. She was quiet about her Slytherin status, but she still dressed me in greens, painted my room a dark silver, and paid for my first pet; a silver colubrid snake. These days I wonder if my mother actually did those things on her own accord, without the influence of my father.

There was a book I once read in the Library during my fifth year. I had been required to find a reference book in the Russian literature section for my History of Magic class and, whilst trying to understand the squabbled Russian on the spines of each book, I came across a novel translated into English: _Crime and Punishment_. Astonished that I had managed to find a book I could actually read, albeit a muggle novel, I decided to sit down and glance through it in order to sort of do a study into how Russian vernacular and structure differed from the English that I knew. You know, like an average 15-year-old would do. Before I knew it, I had read a hundred pages and the Librarian was kicking me out for the night. But, I digress. In the story of _Crime and Punishment_ , the main character dealt with the repercussions of having the equivalent of three distinct mindsets: A vengeful side, fueled by anger, hate, and revenge and is often the cause of the crimes committed by the character, a childlike side, fueled by anguish, guilt, and a lack of reason and is the cause of crimes committed accidentally, and The Onlooker, a mindset that has a lack of emotion or reason to be involved and gives the character a lack of motivation to be afraid or to commit more crimes.

It was a book I connected to deeply, for many reasons that I still, to this day, do not understand. I knew my childhood exhibited that of The Onlooker, but there were many other significances in the book I knew connected to me in other ways as well, most of which I know now had not presented themselves to me yet in a way in which I could understand.

\---

Gus and I had no problem finding a seat on the train. We sat in the back, along with many of the other older Slytherins. I wouldn't go as far as to say they were my friends, as it was rare for anyone in our house to really be friendly, but they respected me. They respected my bloodline, mainly, but I liked to fantasize that they respected my character too, or maybe even my party trick.

I sat in my usual spot against the back wall of the train, squished between Gus and Daphne Greengrass, a girl who I had only just met at the end of last year. Directly across from us sat Teddy Nott and Blaise Zabini, both of whom were friends of Gus's.

The train had just begun to pull out of the station and Blaise had started up a conversation with Gus about something relating to Defense Against the Dark Arts when I noticed Draco Malfoy enter the carriage later than normal, Pansy Parkinson flush against his heels. He was oddly dressed up today, what with a pressed black suit over the top of a simple black dress shirt. His hair was combed back with a few handfuls of gel, and maybe a bit of magic, which was a significant change from his usual shaggy look. What was most peculiar were the dark circles under his eyes and the almost white complexion that had begun to overtake his face.

He sat on the far side of the carriage next to Pansy and across from Crabbe and Goyle. I could tell something was bothering him, as he kept glancing out the window or looking back over his shoulder, all the while his leg bouncing anxiously.

Following one of his notorious look-backs, Malfoy managed to make eye contact with me, to which I gave a small smile and lifted up my fingertips from the table in a sort of semi-wave. The boy nodded slightly, not looking entirely interested or focused on my acknowledgment, then turned back around in his seat and I was forgotten again.

Draco Malfoy and I had a complicated history that dated back to when my dad was still around. I remember that when I was eight or so, my dad began bringing over the Malfoys for dinner about once a month. I remember him mentioning to my mother that he would've invited them over every week, but as we lived in Ireland at the time and them in England, it was best to just stick to every month. He had also mentioned to my mother that the visits were strictly work-related and he was simply "sucking up to the boss", as he had put it. Yet, there was something odd about my Father's relationship with Lucius Malfoy especially, simply in the way that they communicated and interacted with one another whilst the family was over. A hushed whisper here, a glance at the other from across the dinner table. My father even began cracking a few smiles when the Malfoys were over, which was odd, seeing as I rarely ever saw him smile.

For the first year of these dinner parties, I did not know Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had a child, or that they were even the type of people to want children in the first place. They were both very cold and demanding, as well as having very pungent opinions about society and it's classes. Rarely did they ever speak of children or even show any sign of acknowledging me, even when I'd sit next to my mother at the dining table. Their conversations would range in topics a child could not understand or have no business in hearing.

So it was considerably surprising come to find out that the Malfoy's had a son my age, despite the fact that it was obvious he was born simply to become an heir. The first time Draco Malfoy came to my house, he was dressed in almost the same get-up he was wearing in the train car today, but his dazzling white hair was pressed flat against his head and seemed to have been combed back dozens of times. The corners of his mouth were curved up into a smirk and his eyebrows were raised high, much like his father's. He was no more than one or two inches taller than me, yet stood as if he were fifty feet tall and could crush anything he wished under the tips of his toes. He had shaken my hand delicately as if he had no business touching me at all, and he spoke to me as if I were years younger than he was, regardless of the fact that I was nearly two months older. At age 9, Draco Malfoy was cruel, stuck up, and an all-around pain in the ass.

Naturally, we became best friends.

For a year.

When I was ten, my Father stopped inviting the Malfoys over for dinner and I slowly began to lose contact with Draco Malfoy. It was bittersweet, in a way; the circumstances meant that whatever 'work' my father had with Mr. Malfoy had more or less fallen through and I could stop feeling as if our family was getting involved with something it shouldn't be. On the other hand, I had lost what I now know to be the last friend I'd have whilst living in Ireland; someone more like me than anyone I'd ever know.

That was until fourth year when I started school at Hogwarts and saw Draco Malfoy again after four years of no contact. He was almost exactly how I remembered him, just with a bit more hormones and a lot less gel in his hair. I had tried to make contact with him; I acknowledged him in the hallways, I sat relatively close to him in the Dining Hall, and I was even in the same study group as him. But Draco rarely said a word to me. His only form of communication with me thus far has been a simple head nod to acknowledge my attempts. It had worried me tremendously fourth year; I wondered if I had inadvertently done something wrong or if his family had banned him from talking to me. I don't worry so much about it now, but I do still try to be as nice to him as I can so that maybe, one day, he'll see that I have and will always be there for him.

An elbow in my side jolted me back to the present as Gus turned to me and asked, "So, what do you think, Nance?"

I tore my eyes away from the back of Draco Malfoy's head and looked between Gus, who was waiting patiently for my answer, and Blaise, who looked quite bored with the fact that I was being dragged into his conversation.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying again?"

Gus sighed as Blaise's fingertips tapped repeatedly along the tabletop. "I had mentioned to Blaise that the Potions teacher they hired this year is a complete buffoon and I'd rather have someone teaching that I could actually learn from, but Blaise said he'd rather have a professor that slacks off so he doesn't have to do any work. I was asking you which side you would take?"

The tip of my tongue traced over the corner of my mouth as I thought. "Well, I think I'd much rather learn in class to be prepared for the real world-" Gus silently punched the air at the remark. "-but I'd much rather do that the easiest way possible. Is there a third option?"

"You have to pick a side, Nancy, that's how the game works."

"I didn't realize we were playing a game, I thought this was just logic."

"No, the game is that I'm always right and Blaise is al-"

At that moment, I noticed out of the corner of my eye the carriage door slip open slightly, seemingly with no one behind it. I was just leaning over to interrupt Gus in his rant on Blaise's insignificance when the room was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of darkness.

I felt Gus's hand clutch my arm as I attempt to stand, pulling me down next to him as he whispered loudly, "Nancy, stand up and you'll die."

I rolled my eyes and tutted in the pitch-black darkness. I could hear the people that were seated around me yelling, coughing, and a few people had started laughing. "Gus, no one's gonna die, I'm just going to try to go into the hall to see who threw that stupid Weasley powder in here. I'll be back in a second." I managed to pull my arm out of Gus's grasp, much to his dismay, and made a motion to climb over Daphne, but when my hand slipped on the seat cushion, I found no one there, which was odd, as I hadn't heard her get up. I pushed myself down the aisle, hands outstretched as to not fall over, only bumping into a few people on my way. My hands soon grazed over the face of the compartment door, and with a little fumbling, I managed to find the handle and pull.

I had only gotten it a part of the way open, the light from the hallway just beginning to stream in when something seemed to push me in the chest and I fell backward. The momentum of this act had me push the door in the opposite direction, shutting it again.

An empty seat met my back when I fell, a quick breath leaving my lungs. I was startled for a second, as I had not seen anyone come in the carriage or leave it, but it was fairly dark in the compartment, so I must have done so without knowing.

I looked around and I could begin to make out a few muddy shapes through the cloud, so I stood again, brushed myself off, and opened the door again, this time staying on my feet.

The smoke began to dissipate at a faster rate into the hall, and when I turned back around, I caught the eyes of Draco Malfoy, who was standing quite defensively in the center of the aisle. There were a few other Slytherins still mulling about, muttering about the immature acts of first years, so we were not the only people still standing, yet Malfoy maintained eye contact with me for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. Then he dropped his gaze, shook his head slightly, and made his way back to his seat as if nothing had happened.

Once I was sat back in my seat, everything seemed to have gone back to normal. Gus was finishing up his conversation with Blaise, Pansy Parkinson was shouting something unintelligible at Goyle, and Teddy Nott was loudly scratching something down in his notebook.

And Draco was back to glancing worryingly about, however this time, he kept making eyes at the luggage net above his head as if something was hiding inside of it.


	3. The Draco Malfoy Issue

When I was ten, my father told me I would not be attending Hogwarts the next school year. When I asked him why not, he threw his wand at me and locked me in my room for the rest of the week.

I would be lying if I said I was disappointed in my father's decision; for ten years my father had been tattooing into my brain the saying "Slytherin or else". The realization that my imminent life or death trial would in fact not be happening, at least not in the coming year, lifted perhaps that heaviest weight in existence off my shoulders. The content I had did not last long, however. Soon after, my father began coming home angry, bent out of shape, and he started to approach my Mother and I's constant presence as something of a nuisance. I never knew what my father did for work, but I was smart enough to realize that whatever he did what beginning to destroy him.

Three years later my father stopped showing up at home. It took us about a week and a half to realize something was wrong and for that, I will never forgive myself.

\---

'The Draco Malfoy issue', as I elected to call this situation of odd behavior, did not end with the conclusion of the darkness powder prank. In fact, Malfoy seemed to be acting even stranger than before. When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade station and the compartment collectively stood, Malfoy stayed sitting. I had made my way out into the hallway when I heard him call out to Pansy, "You go ahead, I want to check something."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice began hinting that something was wrong, although that much had already made itself quite clear.

Gus and I had already made it onto the platform, but I knew I had to turn back.

"Augustine!" I hissed in his direction. Once he was facing me, albeit an odd look on his face, I leaned in and whispered, "Something's up with Draco; I'm going to stay behind and see what it is."

Gus gave me an unreadable look for a moment before sighing. "Nancy, I know you've wanted to 'make amends' with Malfoy for a while, but I think he's made it very clear what his motives are with you. Maybe it'll be best if you just leave it, besides, I don't think is the really the best time to-"

"No, it's not about that! I just feel like something's wrong and I should help out or a least check to make sure he's not, I don't know, murdering someone."

"Okay, first of all-"

"I'll see you in the Dining Hall, Gus!" I made a motion to get back on the train. "And make sure to leave me some of those raspberry pastries I like. You know, the ones with the swirly frosting."

The boy grimaced but nodded, and just as I was beginning to close the door to the train, I heard him call, "You shouldn't help the people who aren't worth saving, Nancy!"

\---

The train was eerily quiet when I boarded, which was appropriate, seeing as hardly anyone was on it. The good thing though was that the lights were still on and that much I hoped lasted throughout my quest. If there was one thing I was scared of, it would be darkness. Mainly, what lied within it.

I had made my way down two compartments, wand stretched out in front of me, when I came upon the Slytherin carriage, but all the blinds seemed to have been pulled down. I had been riding a constant wave of medium worry, but with the discovery of this, I began to feel my heart beat rapidly beneath my chest. Maybe that murdering idea wasn't so far from the truth after all.

The flooring beneath my feet rustled slightly as I took a few hesitant steps forward. I could hear a few muffled words being said through the doorway, but I couldn't make out anything in particular. So, I leaned forward and carefully placed my ear against the glass window.

"-was dead before you could wipe the drool from your chin."

There was a sickening crack as I flinched. I'd have guessed someone had broken a bone, except no one cried out in pain.

"That's for my father. Enjoy your ride back to London."

Hurried footsteps rushed the door on the opposite side and, startled, I pushed off the door and stepped back into the shadows of a compartment just to my right. The door abruptly swung open into the space I had been standing only moments before and out stepped Malfoy, looking pissed off, disheveled, yet oddly... frightened? My breath was caught at the back of my throat, my eyes the size of dinner plates as I dared not move a muscle. The boy stood in the entrance for half a second, not even sending a glance my way, before hurrying down the hall and out the door from which I had come in.

I was still for a moment as I gathered my thoughts. There was no one in the compartment when I had left and I had not seen anyone get on the train once I got on, so who was it the Draco was talking to, if it was anyone at all?

There was only one way to find out.

I hesitantly took a step forward, just far enough for my gaze to peek around the open carriage door. I saw no one, and I couldn't tell if I was surprised or not by that realization. 

The edges of my eyebrows furrowed as I took another few steps forward until I was standing past the threshold and in the car. I made a motion to glance around, however there did not seem to be any reason to make a great deal of it, as a human being would be relatively easy to find in a twelve-foot stretch of train car.

I huffed as the worry I had previously developed on Draco's part return, twisting my stomach up in knots. There were numerous red flags going off in my head, but something told me this may be something I can't help with or I have no control over, just as Augustine had said.

"There's someone on the ground, if that's what you were looking for."

An airy voice startled me from my thoughts and I wiped my head around to see Luna Lovegood standing in the doorway, dressed with a purpose, it would seem, what with a pair of outrageous glasses sitting on her face which no doubt served a purpose other than making quite the fashion statement.

"Uh, Luna, right? Er, I don't really think there's anyone here other than us-"

"Yes, there is, just next to your foot there." She blinks at me through her spectacles. "There's quite a few wrackspurts flying around just in that spot."

"O-okay, I don't see how-"

In a moment, Luna had taken out her wand and sent a stream of red light towards the carpet next to my right shoe. I instinctively recoiled back a few steps, almost tripping into a booth, the skin on the backs of my hands turning a bright white before reverting back to its olive tone.

I looked up a Luna with what I expected to be a very shocked expression. "What the hell was that!?"

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone sit up, seemingly out of thin air. I turn to find Harry Potter, of all people, lying on the ground cradling a bloody nose with the lower half of his body... nonexistent.

" _What the bloody hell is going on?"_ I let out underneath my breath.

Harry noticed Luna first, as her wand was still pointed quite vigorously at himself. "Alright, Luna?"

The girl shoved her wand back into a long pocket within her robe, shoving off her glasses in the process. "I could say the same about you, Harry. This is Nancy," She gestured in my direction, where I was still staring oddly at Harry's half-apparent form. "You'd probably remember her from the Inquisitorial Squad."

Sure, I'd joined with a few other Slytherins, but I'd say I was perhaps the only one in it for the extra credit.

"Yeah..." Harry gave me a hard look, still handling his nose as he stood up, revealing the lower half of his body nonchalantly. My eyes widened as my head cocked to the side a bit. "You're friends with Malfoy, right?"

I shook my head slightly to unstick my eyes from where Harry had just joined us to find the boy staring skeptically at me. "Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah I mean, it's a bit complicated at the moment." I bit my lip. "Draco did..." My hand made a comical gesture around my face. "...that to you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did." He spoke hotly. "Hurt a tad worse when he talked about my dead mother though."

An uncomfortable silence formed between us; Harry staring down at his hands as I look literally anywhere else.

Luna looked between us for a moment, visibly amused before clearing her throat and saying, "You know, I've had a real taste for some pumpkin pasties ever since we got on the train, and if we don't leave soon, I'm sure Marcus will eat them all." To which Luna promptly turned on her heel and walked out of the carriage.

The walk back to the castle was uneventful, besides the occasional hum from Luna. Just our luck the carriages were gone; I was just hoping we'd make it to the Dining Hall in time to at least grab a snack.

All the while, Harry kept making odd glances in my direction and I had a very hard time deciphering whether or not he expected me to return his gaze, so I kept my eyes forward.

Just as the entrance to the grounds came into view, Harry cleared his throat and asked, "You know, I could've sworn you looked different last year. I just can't seem to place what it is."

This time I did turn to look at him, the corner of my mouth curving upwards in a smirk. "Oh, well, that's funny, I thought everyone knew."

"Knew what?"

"Nancy can change how she looks whenever she wants," Luna added, one of her pale eyebrows curving upwards. "I believe she's a shifter or something like it."

"Yes, a shifter. I've been one for as long as I can remember. It's a bit more commonplace for myself, though." I chuckled at the expression Harry was wearing.

The boy hesitated for a moment before asking. "How does it work?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know, actually. The first time I did it, it was an accident. Now, I just kind of think about what I want to look like and it happens. I've been told it looks a little bit like I've died, though."

Harry smirked. "Well now I want to see it happen even more."

We were near the gates now and I could just barely make out the lights from the castle through the trees. "Let's see if we can fix your nose before I show you."

Harry's eyes widened, as if he had forgotten about the incident on the train entirely. His hand reached up to cup his nose. "Do you even know how to fix a nose?"

"I've had a bit of experience healing injuries; I'm sure a little broken nose is nothing."

My experience with healing injuries goes much further than a broken nose, thanks to my ability, but that story was for another time.

"I've heard 'Episkey' tends to do the trick." Luna commented.

"Yeah, me too." I slid a thin wand out from inside my coat pocket and readied it just in front of Harry's face. "You ready?"

Harry shrugged, the faintest hint of fear crossing the fronts of his eyes. "What the hell. Give it a go."

With the flick of my wrist and a quick "Episkey!", there was a loud snap, much like the one I had heard back on the train, as Harry's nose shifted back into place.

The boy doubled over and let out an exclamation of pain before prodding the nose with the pads of his fingers. He stood up and presented his nose to us. "How do I look?"

Luna nodded. "Exceptionally ordinary."

"Brilliant." Harry turned back to face me. "Now about that trick of yours-"

"Ah, yes. Give me something to change."

"Let's see your normal skin tone, maybe even your normal hair color too."

"Alright, but it's pretty bland as you'd probably expect."

Luna shook her head. "We can't expect anything if we haven't had any experience with it."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, "Right." I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. "Well, here we go."

Shifting often feels like falling asleep without meaning to. One minute, I'm conscious and responsive then I get an image in my head of what I want to look like and I'm out. It's less like passing out and more like blacking out. It feels like a power nap most of the time, yet I never really feel refreshed afterward.

My eyes fluttered open and I found Harry staring back at me with a look of astonishment, while Luna looked on with satisfaction. I hardly had to imagine what I looked like to them; near-white skin, free of blemishes, the complexion of a doll. Hair nearly as blonde as my skin, hardly longer than my shoulders.

"That's cool." Said Harry, lamely.

"Would you mind doing a page for the Quibbler?" Luna asked.

I chuckled. "Maybe later." I let myself revert back to how I looked on the train, yet as I finished, the pain in my left hip flared up again and I grimaced. It would've been obvious too, if we hadn't then heard Professor Flitwick call for us from the distance.

"I guess that's our cue to go." I said, voice strained only slightly.

"Might as well," said Harry. "Luna's been looking forward to those pasties after all."

—

By the time we had gotten into the Dining Hall, the first years had been sorted, dinner had already started, and I could tell many students had already finished dessert. Luna dismissed herself, hurrying over to her table to rip the last pumpkin pasty from Marcus Belby's hand.

I turned to Harry and opened my mouth to wish him well when he cut me off. "Thanks for your help today. I know we don't really know each other that well, but I hope we can be friends, even if you are in Slytherin." He said, chuckling.

I smiled. "I hope we can make it work too. You're a good guy, Potter. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise." I made a motion to leave, "and I hope your nose feels better. I'm about 80% sure I did it right."

Harry laughed and began to walk back to his table. "See you around, Nancy."

As I walked back to my table, my eyes grazed over Draco, who was giving me an odd, blank stare, to which I raised my eyebrows and turned away, sitting down across from Augustine.

Gus leaned across the table, his eyes looking just over my right shoulder. "You weren't kidding about something being up."

I mimicked Gus's position over the table. "Apparently Potter was the one that set of the powder. He hid up in the baggage loft until we got to the station. He was invisible, I guess. I don't know, that part kinda-"

"That bastard." Gus interrupted, staring daggers at whom I assumed to still be Harry over my shoulder. "He's a real git, you know."

I turned around to just barely make out the boy chatting with his friends with Ginny Weasley attending to his nose.

"Yeah, he's really something, isn't he?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t tell if this chapter was long or if I’ve just been writing short chapters. Anyway I have the attention span of a goldfish so please don’t expect really long chapters lol


	4. The Story of Teddy Nott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had finished this chapter sans proofreading about two days ago, but I got my wisdom out yesterday morning and had been high all day so I wasn’t really liable to check over it. So here it is now, written with a little flair of wisdom tooth pain :)

At some point right before I was told I was not going to attend Hogwarts, my father started to hit me.

It started off as an accident, an accident on my part at least; I had gotten mad at my Mother for something insignificant, like burning my toast or turning off the television in the middle of a show. I had a tantrum, much like how a nine-year-old would have; it involved crying, kicking, screaming, you name it. My parents were used to it, as any parent should be, except my Dad had had a bad day at work.

My Dad came into my room just as I was calming down. I had looked up at him through curly blonde bangs and said a few words I had heard him use the week before when he had gotten angry at my Mother. There had been no way for me to know what they meant or when the appropriate time was to use them. I had heard them, so I used them.

My Dad's eyes had widened only slightly. He stood unnaturally still for an uncomfortable amount of time. Then, he walked over to me in two strides, picked me up by the collar of my shirt, and slapped me hard on the cheek with the palm of his right hand. Then he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

That night in my sleep, with a large bruise covering the side of my face, I had my first shift. My skin became East Asian, my hair doubled in length and turned a rich brown, and my nose developed a point sharp enough to cut paper. My eyes, however, stayed the same silver they'd always been.

And the shift tore every weak blood vessel in my cheek to shreds.

\----

Theodore Nott is perhaps one of the most uncharacteristically charming people I have ever met. By that, I mean he is fowl, insensitive, and the absolute worst at dating. And somehow that excites me.

This all made itself apparent the first day of classes when Teddy attempted to make amends with me (after completely shattering my heart the year before), and I couldn't resist.

Flashback to fifth year. Teddy and I had been friends ever since I had gotten to Hogwarts. Our friendship was comparable to Augustine and I now, until the one day we had spontaneously made out in one of the nooks in a corridor.

We started 'dating' right before Christmas break, and I say 'dating' because Teddy did not believe in PDA, as he had put it. Not even a handhold on our way to Potions or a quick kiss goodbye. Something was fishy from the start, but I was too lovesick to figure it out.

Weeks go by and the student body, (or rather, the students who cared enough to pay attention) began to suspect something between us, however they did not have any evidence to prove it. Teddy said he called us a 'best friend' couple, where we look like really good friends in public and do all the 'couple stuff' behind the scenes, or something like that.

At this point, even my corrupted mind could tell something was off, and it didn't take long to figure out why.

After a late-night excursion in the library, I had been on my way back to the common room, regrettably a bit later than curfew. I had taken a detour to avoid any stationed professors when low and behold, a pair of two teens come rushing out from a nook a few paces ahead of me and proceed to make out against the brick wall. Not just any teens, however, but Theodore Nott and a Hufflepuff fourth year.

He had caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, his eyes going wide as I began to turn back around. He pushed the girl off of him, a wild, blazing fear in his eyes. I think he called my name, but I was rushing down the hall so quickly, tears streaming from my eyes, that I couldn't really make out his voice.

He followed me all the way down to the common room, where fortunately no one was in. I collapsed in front of the fireplace, real anguish crushing every bone in my body. How could he have done that, I had wondered. How could he hurt me when all I've ever done is love him?

I heard Teddy cross through the portrait, his footsteps coming closer to my crumpled form. Just as I felt his hand softly touch my shoulder, I grabbed my wand from my pocket, turned around, and cast a silencing spell around the common room. Tossing my wand on a nearby couch, I stood, grabbing a fistful of Teddy's shirt in my hand with me. I pulled so that he was barely standing, then pushed him square in the chest so he went stumbling backwards.

"I _trusted_ you!" I yelled at the boy, who had now regained his balance and was leaning against the far wall. "All I ever did was _trust_ you! And _love_ you!" Tears were falling down my face again and my voice had taken on a higher pitch. "I was there for you when you need me, you were there for me when I needed you! Was all of this just to mess with me?! Because if it was, then your plan worked better than expected, I am completely broken! You've successfully left me 100% distraught and heartbroken, if that's what you were planning on doing." Some part of me was in hysterics at this point, as the boy I loved stared at me through wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar. There was a brief silence, in which I stayed completely still, fist clenched, eyes staring at the one person I hated the most in the world.

" _Say something."_ I whispered under my breath. There was no response, just a shuffle as he shifted his weight.

"SAY SOMETHING!" He was startled for a moment that I had yelled at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then he clenched his jaw and took a few steps forward.

He began softly. "I know I really messed up," I scoffed at that. "And I know I really, really hurt you. It was never my plan to just get with you to mess with your feelings; I was- am still in love with you Nancy Walsh." He was inching ever so slightly closer to me. "Charity and I were just friends, you see, and we had been studying for Potions in one of those nooks in the corridor when she just started making advances towards me. Then the next things I know, she threw me out into the hall and started making out with me." His eyes were wide as he explained, his hands making motions with the story. He was now just a few feet from me. "Nancy, please. You have to forgive me. You were just caught in the wrong place and the wrong time. I was literally about to push her off when I saw you. Please, you have to understand." He was just a foot away now and his hand reached up to brush a hair out of my face. I was eerily silent, my arms crossed over my chest and my eyebrows raised slightly. "You're the only one for me, Nancy. " He began leaning closer and I had not a clue what he was playing at until he closed his eyes.

A smack rang out through the common room as my hand met with his cheek. Teddy let out a sound of surprise as he stumbled to the side, his hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "Get it through your tiny brain, dipshit. I just caught you _cheating_ on me."

I turned, picked up my wand, and began my trek to the stairs, leaving Teddy stunned. "No, Nancy- Nancy!" I made no attempts to stop my ascent. "Nance!" He was sitting up now, and as I glance over I could just make out a few tears sliding down his face.

"I didn't cheat on you, Nancy! I cheated with you!"

I stopped in my tracks, confusion etched into my face. As I started to turn around to ask what the hell he meant by that, I understood. Pure, absolute horror passed through me as I made eye contact with Teddy.

"I- I didn't cheat on you with Charity, Nance. I'm dating Charity."

I wasn't really sure if his statement was supposed to make me feel better, but knowing that I was his semi-mistress for the better part of a year made me sick to my stomach.

I closed my eyes and sighed, my body completely worn out. I had already made it to the landing, and as I opened the door to my dormitory, I flicked my wand. The silencing spell fell out of the air, leaving everyone oblivious to what had just happen between Teddy and I, as well as leaving the boy sitting shocked on the floor of the common room.

-

Fast forward to today. I had just sat down in Potions, a little ways from the back of the class. Potions this year was mostly full of Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws, with the addition of myself and a sparse amount of Slytherins. So, naturally, I had sat by myself, and I was still sitting by myself when Theodore Nott strode into the classroom.

Teddy made a show of standing at the front of the class and looking around for a seat before his eyes settled on me. The corner of his mouth turned upwards into a sly smirk and he casually strode over to my table, setting his things down directly beside me.   
  
Teddy sat down, shifted the stool ever so slightly closer to me. Then, he leaned over and, under his breath, whispered to me, "You know, I was quite disappointed when we didn't get a chance to chat on the train, what with all the commotion."

I sniffed and opened my Potions book, turning to the page on Wiggenweld Potions. "Well, I don't think I would consider myself completely disappointed with the turn of events."

Teddy scoffed slightly, leaning back in his seat and making no motion to pull out his materials. I was peeved at the boy, not for just what he had done to me in the past, but for the nerve he had trying to strike up a conversation with me.

Professor Slughorn then started the class, introducing the Wiggenweld potion and it's ingredients, then pointing in the direction of where they were kept. "Please send only one member of your party to retrieve them, however. We do not need any more spilled spider fangs, do we now?"

I had just made a motion to stand when Teddy set his hand on my arm. I had been so startled with the action that I didn't even make an effort to remove it. "Don't worry, I got it."

"Do you even know what you're getting?"

"Of course I know what I'm getting. I'm a Potions whiz." Teddy winked at me, took his hand off my arm and made his way over to the cupboard, all the while I stood half-raised from my seat, looking no doubt confused as to why this boy was being so kind to me.

This trend continued throughout class, with Teddy doing very simple tasks for me (with perfection, mind you), even though I was quite capable of doing them myself. All I did was stir the potion, and even then I only got one clockwise stir in before Teddy offered to do it.

A bubbling, green pot of potion sat in front of us by the end of class, perfect no doubt. I was sat back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest as Slughorn made his way around to check Potions. I was still irked with Teddy's behavior and his seeming lack of confidence in my own abilities (which is what I'd been telling myself were his motives), but somewhere inside me, I felt comfortable around him, even though he was perhaps the biggest asshole I'd ever met.

Slughorn then passed our desk, to which his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he caught a glimpse of the pot on our desk. "My, my, dear Ms. Walsh, Professor Snape mentioned how you were an exceptional student, but I didn't believe you'd be this extraordinary! You must be very glad to have chosen this particular partner, Mr. Nott!"

I opened my mouth slightly and took a breath, my eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. I turned around to see how Teddy was reacting to Slughorn's misinterpretation, only to see that the boy had a tremendous smile on his face. "Yes sir, I am quite glad to have sat next to Nancy, for more reasons than one."

Slughorn ignored the last part of Teddy's comment and said to the class, "Take note of your classmate's achievements, children, as it is always good to have someone to learn from, as well as to copy notes off of!" The professor let out a chuckle that was reciprocated by almost no one in the class. "20 points to Slytherin!"That, however, was met with countless groans and whines throughout the room.

Slughorn then released us, commenting on the next Potions we would be making and Teddy and I began packing up our things. I had just pushed in my stool when I made eye contact with him. Teddy was still smiling after the ordeal with Slughorn as he pushed in his stool, winked at me, and said "See you next class, Nance."

"Yeah, you too," I said quietly to his retreating form, holding my bag to my chest. I watched until he had turned the corner of the doorway and was out of sight before putting my bag on the shoulder and followed suit. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to make amends with someone who did something terrible to me, quite recently too. That wasn't how that was supposed to work. And yet... somehow I was attracted to that. Somehow, I found it easy to forgive, even only slightly. It's not my greatest attribute, I am quite aware, and it would definitely lead me to getting hurt in the future, but for now, I was having fun playing 'perfect world' for as long as I could before my world fell apart.


	5. A Serious Brain Muddling

The first night I shifted was perhaps the first and last time my father had every truly acted like a father.

I had awoken to heavy pain in my left cheek, the skin swollen and hot to the touch. Even as a nine-year-old, I knew that an average slap to the face wouldn't cause enough damage to do what my face was doing at that instant. So, I hastily climbed out of my twin bed and made my way quietly down the hallway to the bathroom. I had turned on the lights and closed the door, grabbing the kiddie stepstool from underneath the sink, and took a look in the mirror.

The scream that had come out of my mouth had been so loud and utterly horrendous that my mother had rushed into the bathroom within fifteen seconds, looking frazzled and slightly dazed. Staring back at me through the glass was a girl with pale, yellow skin, deep brown hair that stretched past her elbows, and a nose that resembled a muggle witch's. The most unnerving part, however, was the large bruise stemming out from the center of her cheek that stretched from her ear, up along her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, and down to the base of her neck. In was an angry shade of purple that seemed to be growing larger with every passing second.

When I had turned to look at my mother, tears streaming down my face, I saw that she had her hand over her mouth, dread swimming within the centers of her eyes. She had called for my father in a voice I had never heard her use before, and when he had rushed around the corner and caught sight of me, the concerned etched into his face quickly morphed into nearly the same look my mother had given me. 

My father had scooped me up into a bridal carry and carried me down to the garage. I had vaguely remembered hearing my father mention to my mother that splinching would be much more likely in my condition, which was why we would be driving to the hospital rather than apparating. So, I found myself being pushed into a car that smelt of cleaner and fresh leather in a garage I barely even knew existed. 

I was curled up on my father's lap in the back of the car as my mother drove to a small Ireland Wizard hospital about ten minutes away from our cottage, just outside of Belfast. Throughout our drive, my father was whispering words into my ear that I could barely make out, however, I thought I heard him say "I'm sorry" at least once.

I have trouble remembering much of anything after the nurses had pulled me from the car and stuck a needle into the top of my forearm. There had been plenty of noise and blurry shapes and there had been hands grabbing from all different directions. After about five minutes, I was out.

When I awoke nearly a day and a half later, the swelling in my cheek having gone down considerably, I found my father resting soundly on my leg, his hair three shades darker than usual. 

-

Not only was the notorious Theodore Nott in my Advanced Potions class, but also my Transfiguration and Double Herbology courses. I was almost convinced someone was watching the two of use from above and doing anything possible to get us together. Teddy absolutely loved our schedule line up; I, on the other hand, was having the internal crisis of the century.

"I don't know what to do, Gus! He's everywhere! Not to mention he keeps trying to be nice to me at every possible moment."

Augustine and I sat across from each other in the Great Hall eating lunch. It was great to finally have someone to talk to that wasn't some sketchy ex-boyfriend who kept trying to get on my good side.

"If he's so nice to you, why don't you just get back together." Augustine shoveled half a ham sandwich into his mouth, spilling crumbs all over his plate. The corners of my mouth turned downward in a grimace. "I honestly don't even know why you guys broke up in the first place, it was like you were made for each other."

I stuck my fork into my goblet of juice and stirred, my head resting on my hand as I watched the prongs make oblong currents in the liquid. "I've told you before, Augustine, it works on paper, but we're just not very... compatible in real life, I guess.

No, I hadn't told Gus the real story of how Teddy and I stopped seeing each other. Nobody knows the real story, except maybe Charity the Hufflepuff. It didn't help that Gus has been friends with Teddy since first year and he was the one to set us up in the first place.

"That's bullshit, you two are made for each other."

I set my fork on the rim of my goblet. "Alright, you're not helping with my personal life, so what about you? How's it going with Isabel?"

I notice Augustine hesitate for just a second as he pretended to look for a second sandwich. "We're good."

I set my arms on the table and entwined my fingers, my eyebrows raising slightly. "Yeah?"

"Uh, yeah. She's great. You know, she's trying out to be the Ravenclaw's seeker this year? She's a whiz on the broom, really. I can't see anyone beating her for it." He sniffed slightly and tapped his fingers on the table. "She's in charms with me too, which is good. She's really smart, so she can definitely help with my lousy spells."

"Alright, if you're doing so well, then why did you hesitate?"

"Hesitate?"

"Yeah, you hesitated right when I first asked about Isabel. Don't think I didn't notice. I'd think your relationship was failing if it didn't sound like you two are quite alright."

Gus grabbed his sandwich on either side and tore it in half. "We are quite alright."

"Alright."

As Augustine swallowed another sandwich half whole, Blaise Zabini sat down next to him and set a pile of books on the table. "You know, Snape's a real git sometimes. You'd think he'd go easy on us Slytherins like he always does, but he gets the job he wants and all of a sudden it's like teaching was his lifetime goal or something." Blaise grabbed an apple off the fruit platter and took a bite. 

Gus licked some crumbs off the corner of his mouth. "What'd Snape do that's got your briefs in a twist."

"He's got us writing some essay on how mermaids and centaurs are related. Related! They're a completely different species!"

"They're both half human."

"How am I supposed to write a ten-page paper on the humanity of mermaids and centaurs!? It's absolute bollocks I'm telling you."

"Why don't we just get the study group back together?" I said.

Blaise took another bite of his apple. "That's actually what I came to talk to you guys about. Pansy and Teddy said they're alright for it, and I even got Daphne to join this year."

My brow furrowed. "What about Draco?"

Blaise shrugged. "I asked him and he gave me piss about it so I guess not."

"I know he was kind of a pain in the ass sometimes trying to get him to come, but he was really smart and I thought he enjoyed it. That's odd."

Gus swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and cleared his throat. "Doesn't sound too odd to me. He's always been a bit weird when it comes to hanging out with people."

As Gus and Blaise started talking about who could take Draco's spot in the study group, I caught sight of Harry walking out of the Great Hall. I thought of the previous night on the train and the side of Draco I had seen. It made me wonder how much I knew about this boy and how much he's keeping hidden. None of it was really my business to know, but if Draco's secrets are at any point liable to get my friends and I, or even Draco himself injured or caught up with something he shouldn't be, I'd feel better if I had at least tried to stop it.

-

After lunch, I had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape, and as much as I had heard about him not being too lenient with Slytherins this year, I wasn't too worried about him making my life miserable. It wasn't that I could get away with anything I did, much like Malfoy could in previous years, but I always did my work, asked for help, and was generally fairly good at potions. However, I wasn't too sure where I stood in DADA, as every year was a gamble. I had gotten an Outstanding on my DADA OWL the year before, but I could never tell if Umbridge was sneaking me credit or I was actually good at the subject.

My Outstanding OWL also earned me a place in Advanced DADA, which was only worrying as almost none of the Slytherins I knew were able to get in.

Much to my suspicions, the class had not a single Slytherin in it when I arrived. I took a seat in the far back, per usual, and as I had no one to be on the lookout for, I began taking out my supplies and starting a notes page for class.

At some point, two people sat down at the table in front of myself, exchanging hushed whispers for an extended period of time. I had just looked up to tell them to shove off with their lousy secrets when I noticed that the pair was, in fact, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the former having been looking over his shoulder at the time and made direct eye contact with me. Potter then hurriedly whipped his head around to Hermione, said something quickly under his breath to her, and whipped around to face me again, a friendly smile plastered on his face.

"I always did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts back when the professors were new and didn't have it out for me. I might be in for it this time."

His comment caught me by surprise, to say the least. I sat stiffly in my seat for a moment, looking between the two of them to see if this abrupt conversation starter was a joke or not. Upon finding no indication that it was, minus the awkward stare Hermione was giving me, I smirked slightly and said, "I'll be sure to try and speak up if he pushes you around, but I make no promises."

Harry chuckled lightly. Looking satisfied in the answer I had given him, he turned back around and continued his loud whispering with Hermione, this time a little more aggressively.

No way this wasn't some kind of test.

Once Snape had entered and begun the class, I attempted to steer my mind away from the odd interaction I had had with the Gryffindors, yet I couldn't help but notice every time Hermione glanced my way. I could tell they were passing notes as well; scratching a few words at the top of their notes and sliding it halfway across the desk for the other to read. If I had been a few inches closer I would've been able to read them too. 

Whatever sneaking they were doing didn't seem to catch the attention of Snape, however. He assigned a few pages of classwork to be completed before we left, along with the essay homework Blaise had mentioned, and the moment the words 'You may work with the people around you' left his lips, Harry Potter had turned around so fast in his chair, I nearly leaped out of my seat.

If it wasn't for Hermione's constant reluctance to speak or interact with me in the same way Harry did, I would've believed that I had just made two new friends, which was semi-odd to me, as I could've sworn I had become friends with Harry just the night before. 

The encounter made me wonder if Harry wanted to have an undisclosed friendship, considering the fact that he was 'mortal enemies' with a boy he thought to be one of my friends and he has never been friends with a Slytherin before. And by the way Hermione had not said a single word to me and had stared me down the entirety of DADA, I was almost able to convince myself that it was true.

That was until Harry decided to invite me to a quidditch game with his friends.

"What?" I asked hesitantly after Potter had brought up the question.

Harry nodded encouragingly, turning to glance at Hermione's less-than-excited face before turning back to myself. "Yeah, the first game is just Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff, so we wouldn't be stealing you away from your own friends or anything. Luna has a few friends she wants to see play and invited all of us, including you, to come with her."

I gapped at him for a moment and I could see Harry's grin falter slightly as he glanced at my open mouth. "You don't have to say yes, it's okay if you're not-"

"I'll come," I said staring at some photo on the wall behind Harry's shoulder. 

Harry seemed startled that I had actually taken up his offer, Hermione looking even more horrified than she had been. Then Potter broke out in a wide grin again. Does this kid really ever stop smiling? "Fantastic! We're all gonna meet outside the pitch next Saturday, make sure to wear something blue, or Luna's gonna make you wear her raven boots!"

I chuckled half-heartedly as Snape announced that class had ended and the two turned back around in their seats. It took me a moment to regain my composure as I struggled to believe that I had actually just said yes to an outing with Harry Potter and company. What would my friends think? Would I even tell them? Best not to, for now, I thought. I'll just see how it goes. What are the odds that I'd become friends with them all anyway?

\-----

After classes, I made the executive decision to take a walk. My brain had officially reached a stage of pure muddledness, what with the obscure occurrences in the past day or so; Harry's befriending of me, Teddy's generosity, Draco's odd behavior. There's a reason I chose to be as socially inept as I am; mainly to avoid internal crises like these.

It was around 5 pm when I made my way along the hills; the sun stood tall in the sky off to the west, casting a warm glow over the grass and across the black lake off in the distance. Crows perched at the tops of the dark wood trees that flooded the path, the branches of which so long their collective weight bending the trees into the permanent shape of gravity. Along the hills, Bluejays and Robins danced a two-step in their battle for grubs, the Crows along the treetops maintaining a keen eye for the ones that managed to escape.

There were few students still out; most of the ones that were were making their way back from Care of Magical Creatures. Down the hills, I could just make out Hagrid tending to a farm of ripe pumpkins and squash, while simultaneously swatting away one too many horseflies. Beside him, a few Hufflepuffs stood carrying large waterpots, every once in awhile pouring a bit out onto a patch Hagrid would point out.

Further along the hill, the forest began to open up, exhibiting a serene view of the Black Lake. At its edge were a dozen or so students happily skipping rocks or reading a book. Every so often, a few minnows or crab would wash up on shore and a few younger students would rush to examine them, then throw them back into the water.

I stood looking out onto the sea for a moment, wondering about my mother on the other side. I'd forgotten to send a letter to her when I'd arrived at Hogwarts, at least, I told myself I had simply forgotten. Yet, here I was, procrastinating writing that damn letter. I had never missed a letter in the previous years I'd been at Hogwarts; while my mother tended to be fairly closed off and hard-tempered when I was at home, I knew she always liked to receive them. I'd found a stash of them hidden in her bedside drawer before I started my fifth year, the majority of them being from my years in an Irish boarding school. I had sat on the floor of my bedroom, the letters fanned out in front of me, my hand curled in a fist and pressed to my lips. There was one letter in particular, the first letter I ever wrote in fact, that I had written the year before my father went missing. It also happened to be the only letter I had ever written to both of my parents, and perhaps the last words I had ever communicated with my father.

This letter had sat flat on my palm, its words inscribing themselves into mind over and over and over again. Tears had dripped down my face, my jaw clenching for so long that I had an ache for the next week.

My mother had found me an hour or so later, nearly stepping on the letter from when I was 13 before gently taking the letter from my hand, as well as the ones from the ground. She had stacked them in her hands, placed them on my dresser, and took a seat on the ground a few feet from myself. We sat in silence; I didn't know if my mother had cried or not, as I never look her in the eye, but I did hear her clear her throat once or twice. It was the only kind of mourning my mother and I ever did together for my father; nearly five years after he had left. 

The only words my mother had spoken to me that day in my room were "I keep the letters because they keep me tied to something other than myself. They tie me to you, Nancy. And I feel as though they're the only things keeping us tied together at this point." Then she left, closing the door softly behind her.

I lost track of how long I stood out by the lake but by the time I had finished, the sun was casting dark shadows along the shoreline and there were only a few students meandering along the hill. My feet had sunk about a quarter-inch into the sand and my hair was pressed to the side of my head, mimicking the shape of the wind. I could make out voices from across the trees, and when I turned my head, the top of the quidditch field stood out in the distance. Small figures dressed in bright green flew in and out of view, indicating that quidditch practice for the Slytherins had begun and that dinner would be prepared soon enough.

As I made the trek back to the castle, I caught sight of an infamous blond boy sitting under one of the large sap trees down the hill. He sat with nothing other than a wand, twirling it between his fingers and staring off into the distance with his thoughts elsewhere. 

I furrowed my eyebrows and stopped in my tracks, tilting my head to the side. I looked back over my shoulder and squinted at the quidditch pitch in the distance to check that, yes, that _is_ the Slytherin team practicing and yes, that _is_ Draco Malfoy sitting under the tree, definitely not at quidditch practice. I huffed. I had been trying to get away from all this brain muddling for at least one evening and I haven't even made it back inside the castle and I have to deal with it again. 

Lifting my chin and straightening out my robes slightly, I made my way toward Malfoy, the boy failing to notice my approaching presence until I was nearly a foot away.

"I didn't expect to see you out here, what with you being too busy to spend time with your friends and there being quidditch practice going on," I said, my hands perched on the crooks of my hips. 

The boy didn't respond for a moment; instead, he looked up at me through pieces of hair that had fallen across his forehead, squinting as the setting sun sent rays of light directly over my shoulders, and continuing to twirl his wand absentmindedly. Then he turned his head back to the front, leaning it back against the tree trunk and sighed out lamely, "I'm not doing quidditch this year."

My hands dropped to my sides. "Why not?"

Draco looked up at me once more, something unreadable passing across his pupils. "Because I didn't feel like it, Walsh. Why are even here, anyway?"

I glared at the boy, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Draco seemed a little startled by my sudden shift in attitude. "Because you keep giving me something to worry about, dumbass."

If Malfoy wasn't taken aback before, he sure as hell was now. "What the bloody hell are you going on about?"

"Giving piss to Zabini about the study group? Quitting quidditch to do, what? Sit under a tree and bask in the sunlight? What about the night on the train? And don't play dumb, I saw you leave and you know it. I'm starting to think there's something fishy going on and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if-"

Draco was standing up now, his jaw set and fist curled. He had flicked the tip of his wand underneath my chin somewhere near the end on my sentence, and I was cut off with sudden fear.

"Don't even try to finish that sentence, Walsh," He said, voice low and hot with anger. "My business is none of your business and it will never be your business, get that through your thick skull. Quit worrying about what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. For all you know, it could get you..." He trailed off, the corner of his mouth dipping down slightly. "Just stay away from me."

Draco stuffed his wand into his pocket, giving me one last firm look, before turning on his heel and jogging up to the castle, leaving me standing startled and confused at the bottom of the hill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this chapter, I spent quite a bit of time eating Kraft Dinner and Bagel Bites while also being lactose intolerant. Needless to say, I also spent a considerable amount of time writing this chapter in the bathroom so... yeah.


	6. The Recruit

-Somewhere in Europe-

In the crisp morning air and the rays of a sunbeam that littered the pavement, children could be heard laughing and playing along the dirt paths. Bird calls made their way in and out of the trees and through the bushes. Badgers and Raccoons found themselves awash with plentiful delicacies, as bugs and smaller meats basked in the dewy grasses along the western highlands. 

Tiny cottages stood along these highlands, decorated in browns and pale yellows. There were no garages (as there were no cars) and there was not much of a road out of the village either. Just one, thin dirt path, hardly big enough for three men, drifted gently out and over the hills in the distance.

There was also a path near the back of the village, where not a single parent would let their children venture; the residents of the village hardly even recognized this path as a road to enter their town by, as a majority of the time, those who ventured down it never returned. If one stood at the edge of the very last cottage on the very last corner of the very last pathway, one could make out the top of a large house in the distance, just at the end of this back-path. From even this view, one could see that this house was very old, with gray brick siding and a roof with more holes than shingles. There was only one window on the house that could be seen from over the trees; a small circular one cut out of the very top story of the house. The window had always been dark, not a single flicker of light to indicate that someone lived in the old, rickety house.

Though, a few children who have ventured to the edge of the last cottage on the very last corner of the very last pathway without their parent's permission have been known to say once or twice that they saw someone looking out through the glass.

Down the back-path, through the door of the rickety house, and up its stairs sat a man in front of a fireplace. He wasn't too old, yet one couldn't tell by looking at his face. Cold, blank eyes, skin pulled taut across his forehead and cheekbones, the folds within them looking remarkably out of place. He had no hair, which accentuated his small, round head, and the way his cheeks sucked in indicated malnourishment, as did the yellow, cracked teeth. 

He was also without a nose. In its place, two perfectly circular holes, much like that of a snake's.

The man sat straight-backed in a large armchair, long, dirt-encrusted fingers extended to cup the ends of the armrests. He was barefoot, the nails of his toes nearly long enough to skim the hardwood floors and the skin of his feet paler than a sheet of paper. He was dressed in long, black robes with sleeves that reached just past his wrists.

At the man's side was a large python, curled into a ball on the floor, head placed on top and facing the open door leading to the staircase. Every so often, the man would lean down to pet the snake, speaking an indiscernible language whilst doing so.

At the sound of the stairsteps moaning in additional weight, the head of the snake rose. The creature then uncoiled itself diligently and began to slide across the room and out the door. The man sat back in his armchair, fingers tapping his armrests. 

A moment later, the snake made its way back to the man's side and returned to its previous position. The man glanced down and, having noticed his pet had not indulged in a morning snack, sigh contently, listening as footsteps entered the room, albeit hesitantly.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd return. I nearly had to send someone to... collect you." The man said, not sparing a glance at who had entered.

There was a lull for a moment, then, "I guess I found myself missing your presence, my Lord."

The Dark Lord tutted, then stood, his black robes swooping around his ankles and the wood beneath his bare feet groaning. He turned around, testing his weight as he eyed the man who had entered. He was a head shorter than himself, dressed much like he was yet with black dress shoes encasing his feet. The dark hair on his head reached just above his shoulder, combed back yet splitting off at the ends. He had thick, set eyebrows and a hard mouth, the shape of his face squaring off his jaw. His skin seemed almost dusty in the dim lighting, with a hint of creams and beiges.

"As you would, Theodore." The snake man took a step forward. "How is your mission coming along? Well, I presume?"

The man, Theodore, almost took a step back as the Dark Lord approached him but stood his ground. "Yes, my lord. With the new mission involving the Malfoy boy, the information I have gathered will help tenfold in your attempt to collect the... subject."

"And you are positive the information you are coming across is being gathered in ways that will not put her on our trail?" 

"In all honesty, my Lord, I doubt the girl is smart enough to realize what is going on."

\----

During my free period the next morning, I had decided to stay in the common room to finish up the paper Snape had assigned. For as much as Blaise had complained about it being an impossibly hard task, I was nearly halfway done after only an hour of work time.

After I finished my sixth page, I threw my quill down on my lap and leaned back into the couch to stretch. There were a few others in the common room; a couple of fourth-years chatting by the fireplace, a seventh year taking a nap on the opposite couch, and myself, the only sixth year in the common room it would seem. I was aware that Teddy had a free period the same block I did, but with all the confusion he's been giving me the past day or so, I found it much more relaxing to take some time to myself. Especially since yesterday afternoon had been interrupted with even more worrisome thoughts about Draco, even though he told me not to spare him a piece of my mind.

I sighed, reaching down to grab my quill and flip to a new sheet of parchment. After flipping through the DADA book once more to get citations, I had just written my first sentence when the common room door opened up, revealing the only other sixth year I shared my free period with.

Teddy Nott stood in the portrait hole for almost a moment too long as he glance around the room, his eyes finally landing on me. His face lit up, and I almost had cause to groan out loud. The boy strode over, plopping himself on the couch next to me, his leg bumping against mine and startling me so much I nearly lost two of my written pages. Teddy then put his arm around the back of the chair, fingertips just barely grazing my shoulder.

"Nancy Walsh, just the girl I needed to talk to!" Teddy said, grinning wide. "I've been meaning to ask a pretty big favor of you, at least, if you're up for the challenge." He said, leaning in close to my face and winking.

I hesitated for a moment before leaning away from his face slightly, my eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a frown. "That depends on what it is."

Teddy pulled his left leg up onto the couch so he was sitting on top of it. "You see, Nancy, I've got a big problem. I'm sure by now you've heard that Draco will, in fact, not be doing quidditch this year," I nodded at that. "And we've got extra seekers, sure, but see with Draco gone, our lineup is all over the place and, in order to fill up the spots we need in order to not be disqualified, we have to pick from an array of less-than-talented first and second years." Teddy paused for a moment and I thought he was finished, confused as to how this whole situation related to me. Then, he continued, "Unless we can find someone with enough experience that isn't already on the team."

"You're out of your damn mind if you came here to ask me to play."

"Come on Nance! You're our only hope!" He pleaded dramatically.

"Teddy, I told you last year, I am not doing quidditch this year! And for good reason!" 

The boy looked at me with an unreadable expression for a moment before rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Nancy, you don't understand." Teddy looked me in the eye, a serious look on his face, for once. "You're our only shot at not getting completely destroyed this season, or worse, disqualified altogether. You're an amazing chaser, Nance, I know you know it too. You shouldn't be worried about getting injured-"

"-I could literally die, Teddy-"

"-because you're too much a whiz on a broom to even think of falling off or getting hit."

We sat staring at each other for a few seconds. The seventh year on the couch across from us had gotten up a while ago, muttering about how inconsiderate some people are to other's sleep schedule, despite it being 11:00 in the morning.

"You've got a duty to your team, Nance. We've got one shot at doing it right this season and it starts with you."

I clenched my jaw and tilted my head to the side a bit, looking down at my half-finished essay. I remember the day when I had decided to take leave from quidditch last year. It was right after an injury that had left me in the hospital wing for a week and a half. I had taken a bludger to the chest during a game, giving me only a minor bruise along my ribcage. I didn't even feel it happen through the adrenaline, and I only spotted the blue patch when I had gone to take a shower that night. I paid no mind to it, as bruises tended to show up on my skin fairly regularly, but that night, in much of the same fashion as when I was nine, I shifted in my sleep. Twice. I can't remember the dream I had had, but somehow it had caused me to shift and to shift back in a matter of moments, leaving the already weak blood vessels in my chest wide open. 

Yet, that occurred from my own carelessness; I had made it a habit to shift constantly last year, making my body weaker and weaker throughout the year. I've acknowledged how dangerous that can be now, which is why I've only shifted once this year. 

I could do it.

I looked up suddenly, catching Teddy's eye as he jerked in surprise.

"I'll do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today; I’ve been packing for my dorm move ins all day, so the fact that I’ve managed to post as much as I have in the past two days shows you just how much I’ve been procrastinating.


End file.
